


Bubble Boys

by jericho



Category: NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jericho/pseuds/jericho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin hates JC and he doesn't know why. Guess why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 1999/2000 and it's pretty bad, but I'm posting it here for posterity.
> 
> My note from back then:
> 
> "This story is a funky JC/Justin/Lance combo that I really can't explain without wrecking the story. It's a five-part series which, if I wanted to delude myself, would say had a surprise ending."

After being on the bus for about four hours, Justin felt the low hum of the wheels on the road in his bones. It was a slow, deep monotony, a sound whose frequency never changed, lulling him asleep and keeping him awake at the same time. After awhile it seemed to be coming from his brain. 

He sat slumped against the couch, unable to move, arms crossed not to prove a point but because it was comfortable. Lance and JC's backs were to him, hunched over the Playstation controllers. They were playing Bust a Move. They had to match three bubbles of the same color to make them disappear. Whoever cleared his bubbles before the other person's screen filled won. The game was the same from level one until the end. All that changed was the speed of the bubbles. Watching it was like watching a tank full of fish that only swam in one direction. 

Lance cleared a bunch of bubbles that blipped up onto JC's side of the screen. "Screw you, Lance," JC said. 

Lance swatted him. "Don't talk to me that way." 

"Well, you're kicking my ass." 

"I always kick your ass." 

They took their hands off the controllers long enough to swat each other. Justin rolled his eyes. 

"Why don't you play something that's actually interesting?" Justin asked. 

Neither turned around. Justin watched the back of Lance's head as Lance said "What's your problem?" 

"Nothing," Justin said. "This is just...boring." He recrossed his ankles and sunk deeper into the couch. 

"Then go do something else," Lance mumbled. Justin narrowed his eyes, imagining them drilling daggers into Lance's head. Turn around, Justin thought. See the look I'm giving you. But they continued, oblivious. 

His attention shifted to JC's neck. It was always smooth and freshly shaven. Slender. Long. Like JC himself. 

Justin couldn't put his finger on the moment he'd started to hate JC, but lately everything about him had been annoying. He hated the way JC kept his neck perfectly shaved. The way he couldn't leave his shirt untucked, not even a little. The way he got a scrape or smudge on his shoes and had to lick a Kleenex and rub it against the shoe to clean it off. The way he left his toothbrush balancing on the back of the tiny bathroom sink on the bus, making everything around it white from the dried toothpaste, when he should have put it away like everyone else. 

He shouldn't hate one of the guys. It kept him awake at night worrying about it, lying in his bunk watching the ceiling inches from his face, wiping away random tears. He shouldn't hate one of the guys. But he couldn't help it. 

"Can I play?" Justin asked suddenly. Maybe if he tried to understand what was so fun about it, it wouldn't annoy him. Maybe if he got a little more on JC's wavelength. 

"Just wait," Lance said. His voice trailed off. Another minute and it was like Justin had never even asked. 

He hated the way JC and Lance were always playing this stupid game, and making stupid jokes to each other. They were private jokes about people they'd seen in the hotels, or about games they'd played. Justin wanted to scream at them. 

"You guys have been attached at the hip lately," Justin said. "What's with that?" 

The backs in front of him were still. Lance glanced at JC. JC glanced at Lance. Then they shrugged in unison and turned back to the game. 

"Nothing," JC said. "It's a good game." 

Justin bit his lip hard. Like that was even close to what he meant. 

He figured being with someone every day for a year, touring in closed quarters and moving from one hotel to the next, was bound to take its toll. He'd been with these guys every day for what seemed like decades. Even if he wanted to get away from them, he couldn't. There was no breathing room in sight. He'd been seeing JC every day for even longer. He had to get rid of the shattered nerves, the burning in the pit of his stomach. 

He got up and stepped past them, wandering down the narrow hall to his bunk. He pulled back the curtain and rolled into the top bunk easily, barely having to climb. 

He pulled the curtain back into place and stared at it. It was thick, dark velvet that only let in light around the sides and bottom. It enveloped the small space in darkness. He heard laughter from the next room and closed his eyes, rolling onto his back. 

He wasn't even sure why he was on this bus. He could be on the other one with Joey and Chris, but after every venue, he'd stubbornly gotten on this one. Maybe it was so he could get closer to JC again and get rid of the burning in the pit of his stomach. 

Eventually his hand trailed down his stomach, over the fine, nearly invisible hairs around his belly button and under the waistband of his pants. Jerking off when he could hear JC and Lance in the next room made his pulse quicken, an added element of voyeurism that made him touch himself with a little more enthusiasm. He didn't even need to hold an image in his head. He kept his mind blank, and as he heard JC in the next room shriek "You're kicking my ass," Justin pressed his head back into the pillow and came. 

*** 

Another day, heading to another town, the same monotonous sound of the rubber on the road. It made no sense to look out the window, because the scenery was the same from one state to the next - cars with a new batch of state license plates, little green Interstate signs, long patches of fields with little houses in the distance, huge concrete overpasses. 

Justin opened his eyes and stared at the back of the curtain. The bus was silent. Lance and JC must be asleep too. He lay quietly, straining his ears, and heard the quiet rustle of blankets. Then he heard the metallic scrape of someone's curtain opening - it sounded like Lance's, but he could be wrong - and a pair of feet land softly on the floor. 

The person padded across the floor of the TV room, fumbled with the coffee maker. Justin knew it was JC. After touring with the guys for so long, he could tell them apart just by listening. Each member had his own set of movements, his own set of body sounds. 

He waited, listening and trying to keep his breathing even. He didn't need to see or hear to know what JC was doing. He was putting fresh grounds in the coffee maker, rinsing out the pot, putting it back on the heating pad. 

Justin heard something shatter, followed by the sound of JC muttering "Fuck!" Justin pulled back his curtain immediately and rolled out, landing easily on his feet and walking barefoot into the living area. JC was holding his hand over the sink, little drops of blood squeezing out of a crack in the pale skin. 

"What did you do?" Justin asked, walking over quickly. The coffee pot was in several pieces in the sink. 

"I don't know," JC seethed. "I just picked it up and it broke. It was really weird." 

Justin took JC's hand and pulled it a little closer, examining a cut between JC's index finger and his thumb, deep enough to make a thin red line across the skin. 

"Hang on," Justin said. He crouched in front of the cabinet and opened it, finding the First Aid kit. The contents of it were neatly placed, barely touched at all. Inside were a couple of strips of gauze, different shaped Band Aids, tiny scissors, a bottle of peroxide. He took out the bottle and wrapped his fingers around JC's wrist. 

"It can't be infected yet," JC said. "I just did it." Justin looked at him and saw JC focusing on his hand, his jaw set, his determined grimace pulling the skin tight over his sharp cheekbones. 

"You can never be too sure." Justin unscrewed the lid with one hand and poured a little on JC's cut. JC inhaled. 

"Does it hurt?" Justin asked. He wanted it to. He wanted JC to react. 

"Not really," JC said. He smiled weakly and Justin's heart sputtered. He wished he would stop smiling so often. 

Justin found a butterfly-shaped Band Aid and took his hand off JC's wrist. He ripped it open and pulled back the tabs. "Give me your hand." 

JC obeyed and Justin fastened the Band Aid, JC's skin smooth and soft under his fingers. He wanted to cover JC's hand with his own, run his fingertips along each crease and knuckle and feel the delicate bones underneath. Maybe it would help him understand. When it was done he sandwiched JC's hand with his, running his thumb across it, feeling the rush of veins and the framework of fine bones under the skin. 

Justin smiled. "Good as new." 

"My hero." 

"That's me." 

JC pulled his hand away and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Justin's shoulders and pulling him into a hug. 

Justin hugged back timidly, carefully resting his hands on JC's waist, afraid to breathe. 

"You've been weird lately," JC said. "What's the matter?" 

"Nothing," Justin mumbled into his shoulder. "I just think the road's getting to me. I think this bus is getting to me." His heart pounded against his breastbone, the steady beat spreading until it pulsed heavily in his throat. 

"No problem." JC retreated and stepped back, running his thumb over the Band Aid. "Just let me know if you want to talk." 

"Sure." 

Lance appeared in the doorway suddenly, leaning against the frame. He had sleepy eyes and his hair was sticking out in some places and lay matted to his head in others. "What's going on out here?" 

"Nothing," JC said quickly. "I just cut my hand and Justin doctored me up." 

"Oh." Lance nodded, pausing like he wanted to say more, and went back to his bunk. 

"I didn't really want coffee anyway," JC said. "I'm going to head back and keep napping." He stepped carefully through the TV room and back down the hall. 

Justin stayed frozen in place, trying to regulate his breathing. He looked back at the shards in the sink, the two big chunks with a brown handle attached to one, and the smaller slivers of glass around it like little islands surrounding the mainland. He wished he could see a trace of JC's blood on the shards. 

He looked around the TV room. The Playstation controllers were tossed on the floor next to each other, cords overlapping and buttons worn. On the couch was a People magazine, a Weekly World News, someone's socks. Justin walked over and sat down on one of the stools, picking up a controller and hitting the power button on the TV. Bust a Move appeared immediately with the neon request "One or two player?" Justin hit one and started playing. He sucked at it. 


	2. Chapter 2

Justin sat slumped back on the couch between Joey and Chris, his ankles crossed between theirs. It had been awhile since they'd had a group meeting. There hadn't been anything different or interesting to talk about. They rode. They sang. They signed autographs. Every day was becoming more and more identical, like their lives were on loop. 

Lance had called the meeting. He sat on the stool in front of them, like they were his audience. They were just waiting for JC. 

"Hurry up," Lance called toward the hallway. JC appeared freshly showered, his shirt tucked neatly into his jeans. Justin gritted his teeth. 

JC sat down on the stool next to Lance, both of them in their usual Bust a Move places but actually facing the couch this time, realizing there were other people in the room. JC smiled at Lance and Justin wanted to hit both of them. 

Lance took a deep breath. "We have something to tell you," he said. 

"We?" Justin said. "Who's we?" 

"Me and JC." Lance smiled at JC again and JC returned it with a reassuring look. What the fuck? 

Lance took another deep breath. "JC and I have been hanging out a lot lately," he said slowly. 

Justin could tell he was choosing his words carefully but fought the urge to scream "Get on with it!" Whatever it was, he just wanted to hear it. He didn't want to fuck around. Were they writing a song? Were they forming a side project? That would figure. JC and I have decided that we're better than all of you and we're going to do stuff on the side without you idiots. Especially you, Justin. 

"Basically, we're very fond of each other," Lance finished. "*Very* fond of each other." 

That was it? Fond of each other? Who gave a shit? 

Joey said, "You mean like...." 

There was a long pause. JC nodded. "Yeah." 

Justin threw up his hands. "What the hell are we talking about here? Are we speaking in code?" He hadn't meant for it to sound that harsh, but Chris's head snapped sideways and he gave him a strange look. 

Justin sighed. "I just mean...come out with it." 

"We're lovers," JC said evenly. "We're together. We have been for about a month." 

And he said it right to him, the fucking bastard. As if Justin would have a problem with it. As if Justin hadn't been astute enough to know that JC was more into guys than he was girls. And Lance? Justin had figured him for gay the first week he knew him. 

Justin gave an exaggerated shrug, trying to look unaffected, but anger burned in the pit of his stomach. 

"Cool," Chris said quietly. Justin couldn't get a reading from him one way or another. 

"Cool!" Joey agreed, leaning over and slapping Lance on the back. "That's great. You guys are two of my favorite people, and if you guys are happy, I'm happy." 

Justin could see Lance's muscles untense all at once, his body slumping forward and a huge smile spreading across his face. JC smiled big in Lance's direction, then at everyone on the couch. 

Justin's eyes narrowed. "Cool? _Cool_?" 

Lance and JC's smiles faded simultaneously. 

"What if people find out about this?" Justin said. "What if our fans find out? What if you guys break up and hate each other and still have to tour with each other?" His heart was pounding so hard that it made his skull vibrate. He knew he was being a jerk. He knew his reaction was totally wrong. But the anger had gone from a flame into a full-blown forest fire. 

"Jesus, Justin," JC said. "Take it easy." 

"I can't take it easy." Justin leaned forward and landed on his feet, not even meaning to until it happened. "This affects all of us, you know. It requires a lot more discussion that just saying 'cool.'" 

Lance stood too, inches away from Justin. Since when was Lance the type to stand up to anyone? "Well, I can't help it if you don't like it. It's happened. We weren't planning on it, but it's happened." 

Please, Justin thought. Like people couldn't help who they loved. There was always a choice in the matter. He could have not hung out with JC as often. He could have buried the feelings by not noticing things like JC's gorgeous smile. He could have gone to his bunk instead of staying up talking to JC, letting the conversation get more and more intimate. He could have not played the stupid video game. 

Justin waved his hand in the air. "Look, I just need to go think about this for awhile, all right?" He felt everyone's eyes on him as he walked down the hallway and rolled into his bunk, yanking the curtain closed and staring at the ceiling. 

Did that mean that every day he'd ridden the bus, just to get a little closer to them and help his relationship with them, they'd been fucking? With him right across the aisle? His mind flashed forward to them kissing, them touching, Lance's hand trailing across one of JC's sharp cheekbones, Lance kissing JC's collar bone. The idea burned like hell. 

It wasn't that he had a problem with homosexuality. He knew lots of gay people. He was friends with them. One night at a club he saw two beautiful guys kissing and couldn't stop staring, not because it seemed weird but because it looked so gorgeous. But Lance and JC...His problem was that someone could find out. His problem was that they were doing it behind his back. His problem was.... 

What was his problem, anyway? 

\--- 

Justin stayed in his bunk all afternoon, grabbing a copy of "Brand New Cherry Flavor" from his suitcase and lying on his back reading it. He heard Chris and Joey leave for the other bus, and JC and Lance talking quietly in the other room. Then they were silent except for the odd wordless outburst, and Justin realized they were playing the video game. 

He thought the book would be about sleazy celebrities who killed each other, but it wasn't. It was about some stupid actress the male author kept describing in agonizing detail. Sentence after sentence described her curved hips and how beautiful she was when she smiled. The author skipped over the gore but spent entire paragraphs describing her outfits. The only character Justin was interested in, the sexually ambiguous funky male keyboard player, drifted in and out long enough to lust after the actress and that was it. 

Justin put the bookmark between the pages and threw the book at the end of his bunk. There was a new noise now, of laughing and stumbling like Lance and JC were wrestling. Justin wanted to grab something sharp and shove it in Lance's chest, to watch the blood spurt and that look of stupid love fade from Lance's eyes. Didn't they realize that everything would change now? Did they care? 

By the time they arrived at the hotel, Justin had stared at the ceiling for so long that his vision had blurred. He rolled out and grabbed his suitcase wordlessly, waiting until Lance and JC were halfway out the door to follow them. 

The *NSYNC entourage took up the entire 34th floor, scads of security and stylists and public relations people just waiting to tell Justin what to do. Justin headed straight into his room and shut the door behind him, dropping his suitcase on the floor and stumbling to the bed. 

He stared at the ceiling again. The hotel ceiling wasn't too different from the tour bus one. It just had a different texture and was farther away from his nose. It was only a couple of minutes before there was a knock at the door. 

"What?" Justin snapped. 

"Can I come in?" It was JC's voice, faint on the other side. 

"Fine," Justin said. He didn't move. If JC had the extra key card, he could come in. If he didn't, he could stand there in the hall. 

JC opened the door and shut it quickly behind him, the extra key card between two fingers. 

"What the hell is with you?" JC asked. 

Justin focused on the ceiling. He wasn't going to look over, even if God gave the order. 

JC strode over to the bed. "Justin, answer me." 

Justin shrugged weakly. 

"I know you get in your moods," JC said, "but I don't think I've ever seen you be such a screaming, raging prick before." 

Justin couldn't help but look. "Shut up," he mumbled. 

JC was incredulous. "I just told you what is probably the most important thing of my life. I thought because you've been my best friend for...I don't know... _ever_ that you would maybe be happy for me, or at the very least cool with it. Lance is in there really upset about what you said." 

Justin inhaled carefully. "I don't care about Lance." 

"What do you mean, you don't care about Lance? How can you even say that? Since when have you not cared about Lance?" 

Justin sat up slowly, still not looking at JC. "All I mean is that for the last month, or however long it's been, all you've been doing is hanging out with Lance. It's like you don't remember that the rest of us exist. It's like you don't even remember...." 

"That you exist," JC finished, a little of the anger drained from his voice but his feet still rooted firmly in place. 

"Yeah," Justin said quietly. 

That was it, he realized. That was exactly it. He missed JC. He missed his best friend. Missing best friends hurt a thousand times more than missing girlfriends. Justin almost smiled. He didn't hate JC. He missed him. 

"I'm sorry," Justin said, and he meant it. "It's just...you're right. I've missed you. I was just jealous, I think, because you were hanging out with Lance more. I didn't figure it out until now. I'm cool with you being gay. Really. I always kind of thought you were." 

He finally raised his eyes and saw JC frozen in place, his hands in his pockets, his jaw set. 

"I'll forgive you if you go tell that to Lance," JC said. 

"Huh?" 

"Go talk to Lance and tell him you're cool with it and that it's not him. He feels really bad right now. I don't care what you say to me because I can pick out the times when you're just being an asshole. But he can't. Go talk to him." 

Justin sighed. He didn't want to go talk to Lance. He didn't want to see Lance sitting on the bed, maybe with swollen eyes, looking up at him with that oh-so-cute face. But he said, "Sure. Cool." 

JC stood still, looking unconvinced. 

"Look, I'm sorry," Justin said. "Really. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I want us to be one big happy family. I love Lance." 

Pause. 

"Really. I love Lance." 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, JC smiled. "Cool." He sat down on the bed and pulled Justin over to him, giving him a tight hug. Justin rested his hands on JC's shoulder blades, running his palms along the sharp ridges and settling in the middle of his back. JC's body was like a warm blanket. 

"Justin, all you have to do is tell me this stuff," JC said into his shoulder. Justin held a little tighter when JC started to pull away, but JC won and Justin pulled his hands back and flopped them in his lap. "We'll do something tonight, after the show. Okay?" 

"There's not a lot of time after the show," Justin said. 

"There's enough. We'll do something." JC brushed Justin's hair back and kissed his forehead. It only lasted a second but it was enough to make a jolt of electricity shoot through Justin's body. Why did JC have to do stuff like that? Justin shuddered and looked away quickly. 

"We'll do something," JC repeated, standing up. "So you'll go talk to Lance?" 

"Yeah." 

JC raised his eyebrows. "Right now?" 

Oh, fine, Justin thought, but resisted the urge to say it. He got off the bed and followed JC across the room and into the hallway. 

Lance didn't look too upset. He sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping through a magazine, raising his head quickly when Justin walked in. 

"Hey," Justin said, sitting down next to him. 

"Hey," Lance said slowly. 

Justin took a deep breath. "I'm sorry about the way I reacted. I was just shocked and I was kind of jealous that you guys were hanging out together all the time. I was weird. I'm sorry." 

Lance studied him. His eyes looked enormous from that angle. "I understand." 

"Really? Because I'm not sure I do." Justin laughed nervously before he could stop himself. 

Why was Lance looking at him that way? Lance was studying him intently, eyeing him almost...almost suspiciously. What was up with that? 

"I'm sorry," Justin repeated, more matter-of-factly. 

"It's okay," Lance said carefully. "I understand." 

He understood? What the hell did that mean? It was like Lance was looking for something deeper than what Justin was actually saying. 

"Lance," Justin said, "I'm not gay." 

Lance blinked. "I never said you were. Where did that come from?" 

Justin frowned. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I just..." The conversation was obviously going downhill. "Well, I'm going to head back and get ready," he said, giving his best photo shoot smile before he left. 


	3. Chapter 3

Justin thought if he signed another autograph his hand would break, although that took second place to the mute panic he felt whenever he was near a sea of uncontrollable people. They were on the other side of a fence this time, far enough away from the spotlights that Justin could barely make out their faces, but he could feel them. Their energy was huge, insurmountable, rushing through the fence holes like a tidal wave, as quickly as their grabbing hands. He was in the midst of signing a tour program when one of the hands caught his shirt and tugged, knocking him off balance and pulling him toward the fence. Justin's new faceless, personality-free security guard of the week, Andy, cut in a split second later, standing him back on his feet. 

They didn't usually do this, but Joey was in the mood so Justin and Chris followed. JC and Lance were somewhere else, doing something else, something Justin wasn't meant to see or know about. The anger bubbled inside him, threatening to come roaring back. Part of the reason he was signing autographs was to take his mind off it. 

Another hand with polished pink fingernails thrust a piece of paper through the fence. "Sign this one 'to Stacy,'" she said. 

Justin scribbled across the paper with his marker. "To Stacy. Love, Justin." 

The paper disappeared for a second and came back in front of him. "It's Stacy with an 'I.'" 

"What?" 

"S-T-A-C-I." 

Justin mentally counted to 10. He would not freak. He would not freak. 

He took the paper back and wrote over the 'Y' with an 'I.' Maybe now she'd complain that it looked too messy. 

Andy tapped his arm. "Come on. We're heading back." 

Justin gave one last wave and followed Andy down the grassy slope to the car waiting for them. Chris and Joey were chatting amiably. The security guys were stone-faced. Justin studied Andy for a second. He was big and black and cool looking. Any other day he'd probably hang out with him a little. 

"Where's JC?" Justin asked. 

"I don't know," Chris answered. "Back at the hotel, maybe. He and Lance took off." 

So much for the "we're real good pals" routine. Love trumped friendship every time. But he couldn't remember a time when he'd blown off JC to spend time with Britney. Maybe he just had more devotion to his friends. Maybe he just knew how to treat people. 

They settled into the back of the limo, which was dark save for a blue glow from the mini bar that lined one side. Justin watched Joey stretch out, leaning his head on the back of the seat and crossing his arms. 

"Can we phone them?" Justin asked. 

"Phone them?" Joey said. "Leave them alone. They're probably making sweet luvvvv." 

"But..." Neither of the guys he was with would understand where he was coming from. Neither of them would really care. Joey was slumped back. Chris was leaned forward, studying the bar, probably contemplating making a drink. "But I'm supposed to do something with JC." 

Joey yawned. "Do something with him tomorrow. Let the two love birds be alone." 

Why did the guys in love get more respect than Justin, who was all by himself? It seemed like it should be the other way around. 

Justin sat back for a second. The car stopped at an intersection where a clump of club girls stood on the corner, waiting for the light to change. They got the signal to walk and stepped awkwardly off the curb, clacking along the crosswalk in shoes with thick, high heels. In an alternate universe, Justin would probably be dating one of those girls, or primping himself in front of the bathroom mirror getting ready to go out and impress them. But his life consisted of the limo, the hotel, the bus, the stage. The guys. 

Justin sat up straight. "Let's go out." 

He watched Joey intently. Joey always wanted to go clubbing. Joey couldn't be counted on to remember birthdays or anniversaries or to shut the window when it rained, but he was dependable as fuck when it came to wanting to go out. 

But Joey stretched a little and gave another exaggerated yawn. "Tomorrow night. I'm too tired." 

"But you're never tired." It was still two hours until last call. Two hours to dance and sweat and soak up the attention. 

"Tomorrow," Joey repeated, resting his head on the back of the seat again. 

Dammit. 

They filed into the hotel, across the marble floor to the glass elevators, into the elevators with the security guys so close behind them that Justin could smell their breath. 

_Dammit_. 

If he couldn't do something with JC, Justin sure as hell wasn't going to just go to bed. Whatever JC was doing with Lance, Justin wanted to do something that was even more fun. He wanted to get drunk. Get laid. Get anything other than a good night's sleep. He didn't need JC. He didn't even want JC. JC could fuck off and spend all his time with Lance if it made him so happy. 

Andy followed Justin all the way to the door of Justin's hotel room. Justin stood facing the closed door, thinking, studying the number. His main makeup guy, Martin, was probably still up, watching cheesy movies and drinking from the mini bar. He could persuade Martin to go out. Martin would want to go to a gay bar, but that would be fine. That would actually be kind of cool. Justin wanted to be anywhere other than in the hallway of the hotel with JC and Lance fucking down the hall and Andy at his heels. 

Justin could feel Andy about two inches behind him, waiting. He knew Andy had his hands folded in front of him, looking stoic and all important. He waited. Andy didn't move. 

He took a step to the left, just to see if Andy would mimic him. 

"Justin, what are you doing?" 

"Nothing. Go to bed. I'm not going to run out on you or anything." 

Andy paused. Justin tried to send telepathic messages telling him to piss off, but Andy took his sweet time. Finally Andy turned and went to his room. Justin sighed and headed down the hall. 

Martin answered the door in a pair of boxer shorts and a silk bathrobe that was undone and hanging loosely. He had perfectly primped platinum blond hair, a nipple ring, tweezed eyebrows... He was probably the gayest guy Justin had ever seen. 

"Justin. What are you doing here?" 

"Want to go out?" 

Martin raised an eyebrow, obviously amused. "On a date?" Justin didn't even have time to respond before Martin waved him off. "Kidding, honey. Kidding. Guys like you don't date guys like me. But I'm too tired to go anywhere." 

Justin looked past him and noticed a bottle of something on the night table. He didn't realize how long he just stood there, mouth open, until Martin said "Would you like to come in?" He still had that amused lilting tone. 

"Okay." 

He followed Martin in and watched Martin pour him a shot of vodka. Martin handed it to him and smirked. "Just walking around getting to know the help?" 

What the hell was with that remark? 

"I just thought I'd come see if you wanted to go out. What's so strange about that?" 

Martin gave an exaggerated shrug and sat down on the end of the bed. "You just look like you have something on your mind that you want to talk to someone about." 

"No, I don't." 

Martin gave yet another raised eyebrow, yet another exaggerated flourish, yet another skeptical look, and finally Justin sighed. "Okay, yeah, there is." 

Inside of an hour Justin had ranted, cried and had three vodka and limes from Martin's bottle. He wasn't sure why he was telling the makeup guy his problems, except that he didn't see the makeup guy every waking hour of his life. Martin had his own set of friends and his own life outside the captivity of the *NSYNC entourage. In the grand scheme of things, Martin was fairly insignificant. 

"Honey," Martin said, "it sounds like you have a crush on him." 

Without thinking, Justin grabbed one of the pillows and threw it so hard it knocked Martin off balance. "I'm not gay." 

Martin put his hands on his face in mock terror. "Oh, God forbid." 

"Fuck off. This is serious." 

"Sweetheart, I work for you. I take everything you say seriously." 

Justin put the empty glass on the night table and stood up. "I gotta go to bed." 

"Look, don't hate me for saying it. I just thought it was something you should consider." 

"Thanks for the drink," Justin mumbled. The hallway seemed to tilt when he walked back to his room. 

___ 

Justin stared into his Captain Crunch, feeling JC's eyes on him from across the table. He wanted Apple Jacks but their assistant had fucked up again. He had just started eating and already the Captain Crunch was too soggy. 

He cleared his throat and bent closer to his bowl, eating methodically. No way, he thought. No way am I fucking looking at you. 

JC's eyes on him, Lance's eyes on JC, Chris and Joey's eyes everywhere but on what was happening. 

"So what did you guys do last night?" JC asked. JC's shirt was perfectly tucked in, his neck perfectly shaved, his toothbrush probably making toothpaste smears next to Lance's sink. 

The question was obviously not meant for Joey, but Joey answered it anyway. "Not much. Signed some autographs and came back here." 

More silence. More watching. The cereal had started to dissolve, leaving yellow clumps in the milk. 

"Justin, can I talk to you for a second?" JC said. 

Justin stared at his cereal, taking another methodic spoonful. 

"Just leave him," Lance said. "He'll get over it." 

Justin dropped the spoon in the bowl, stainless steel clanging on glass and milk spilling over the side. "Why don't you shut the fuck up?" 

"Whoah, whoah, whoah...." Chris said. "Let's all calm down here." 

"He's jealous," Lance said. "It's so obvious." 

Justin felt every muscle in his body tense. There had never been a better time to reach across the table and just pound the fuck out of Lance. Justin started to stand and Chris's hand hit his chest with a thud. 

"Simmer down," Chris said. "Take a breather. Both of you." 

Justin pushed his chair out and strode to the door, opening it wide and letting it slam shut behind him. More hallway, more stupid purple carpet, more identical wooden doors with little metal numbers on them. Hotel after hotel, city after city, JC everywhere he looked. Everywhere he went he saw JC's face, even when JC wasn't there. Every song he heard reminded him of JC. Every movie he saw he wondered if JC would like it. Every picture he studied of the band, he determined whether or not it was a good one of JC. There was no end in sight. Just city after city of JC, JC, JC. 

"Justin." 

Justin spun around to find JC standing there, hands in his pockets. "Let's talk." 

"Maybe I don't want to talk." 

"For crying out loud, Justin. Let's talk." JC grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hallway, opening the door to his room and pushing Justin inside. 

The dam burst the second the door shut."All yesterday I couldn't wait for us to do something," Justin said. "It's all I thought about. And then we do that whole fucking show and I come out and you're not even there." 

"Justin, I'm sorry." JC moved closer like he might hug him, but Justin kept ranting. 

"It's Lance, you know," Justin said. "Ever since you guys got together he has fucking hated us talking to each other. I don't get that." 

"He just...." 

"It's like he's a little kid with a new toy and he doesn't want anyone else to play with it. It's like he's hogging you and any time we're going to do something, he finds a way to fuck it up." 

"Justin, let me...." 

"This is so fucked. We're supposed to be a group here. A team. And it's like he's trying to cause tension between us. Have you noticed that? He knew we were supposed to hang out last night and the second we got off stage he rushed you out of there before I even got a chance to talk to you." 

"Justin, would you _shut up_ for a minute?" 

Justin paced to the bed and away from it again. He couldn't decide if he wanted to sit or stand, laugh or cry, stay or leave. 

"Lance just knows...how I used to feel about you. I think that's why he's weird sometimes." 

Justin spun around. "How you used to feel about me? What the fuck does that mean?" 

JC's mouth opened and closed again, his eyes going to the window and back. "How I used to...look, you don't want to hear this." 

"No. I want to hear this." 

"Then sit down." 

Justin backed up until his legs touched the bed. He flopped down in time with JC, wiggling his legs, not sure what to do with his hands. 

JC turned carefully, resting his hand on his knee. He looked like a father about to give his son a heart-to-heart sex talk. "Justin, I used to...I used to feel really strongly about you and Lance knows that." 

"What?" Justin felt like his entire body was wound around a corkscrew. "You don't feel strongly about me anymore?" 

"No. You don't understand what I'm saying. I used to...." 

Pause. Justin wanted to scream at JC to get on with it, but talking would make it worse. He had no choice but to wait. 

"I used to be, like, in love with you." 

Justin felt his heart clocking about 180 in his chest, his breath struggling to come out but stopping somewhere in his throat. "Huh?" he said, not to clarify but because he wanted to hear it again. That was it. That was it. That fucking Martin was right, and Lance was right, and the thought Justin supposed was always lurking in the back of his mind was right. His masturbatory instincts. His deep, dark secret. His unthinkable reality. He was... 

"I used to be in love with you," JC repeated, quieter this time. "I never said anything because I knew you wouldn't go for it. I just lived with it for..." JC sighed. "I lived with it for what seemed like forever and I finally got over it." 

Justin struggled to talk past the lump in his throat. "Got over it?" 

"Yeah. You know how you like someone but you can't have them, so you do stuff to take your mind off it? I just did that. But I think it still makes Lance uncomfortable." 

Justin's thoughts were reduced to fragments. Got over it. Did other things. Lance uncomfortable. "Oh." 

"I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have told you that. I don't want you to freak out or anything. I mean, Lance will get used to it and maybe stop thinking about it after awhile. It's just that right now...it's still new, and you've been acting so weird...." 

Justin took a gasping breath. He realized he hadn't breathed since the conversation started. Why hadn't JC just told him? What would he have done? Would he have freaked out? No, he wouldn't have freaked out. Maybe he would have even gone for it. Maybe. Okay, probably. 

Definitely. 

He felt JC's hand rest on his shoulder. The hand with the butterfly-shaped Band Aid. "Don't worry about it. None of this is your fault. I promise we'll do something tonight. I _promise_." 

Justin nodded slowly, his voice still not working. He felt JC get up, heard his feet shuffle across the carpet to the door. 

"I'll go talk to Lance. Everything'll work out." 

JC, the eternal optimist. Justin nodded again, listening to the door shut. He waited a full five minutes before he moved. 

JC had loved him. JC had felt the same way about Justin as Justin felt about him - the anger, the jealousy, the crying. If only he'd realized sooner. If only there was some way he could get it back. 


	4. Chapter 4

Sitting in a hard high-backed chair in a warehouse downtown, Justin felt relaxed. The warehouse looked like it used to be a canning factory or a place where car parts were made - something where fathers had made livings and supported families, probably turning to drink when it closed down. Now the windows were busted out and the hole in the roof let dusty rays of sun inside. Now it was just a good place for a photo shoot. 

Justin closed his eyes obediently as Martin fluffed skin-toned powder on his face; sat immobile while Martin dabbed cover up on the zit on his forehead. 

"So you really want to do this?" Martin said. Justin looked up at him but Martin's eyes were focused on his forehead, his finger dabbing gently against Justin's skin. 

"Yeah. I'm sure. I'm serious." 

Martin narrowed his eyes at the zit, making sure it was covered to his satisfaction, and stood back in a way that made him look like all his weight was on one hip. "Sweetheart, don't you think the fit is going to hit the shan if they figure out what you're doing?" 

Justin jerked forward in his chair, grabbed Martin's arm and tugged him in so they were almost nose to nose. "Yes. I'm sure. Now are you going to help me or not?" 

Martin pried himself loose and shook his arm, muttering "Jesus" before he grabbed the neutral lip gloss from his monster assortment of cosmetics. "Yes, I'll help you." 

Justin opened his mouth automatically when Martin leaned in with the lip gloss. "What do you think I should do?" 

"I think you should stop moving your lips." 

"I mean after that." 

"Let me think for a second." Martin's eyes focus intently on Justin's lips. Justin sat patiently, so used to being touched that he didn't even flinch when Martin picked a speck of something off Justin's eyelash. 

Martin stood up straight and screwed the lid back on the lip gloss. "Get him drunk." 

"Get him drunk?" 

"Yeah." Martin shrugged. "Whenever I want to come on to a cute boy, I go out drinking with him." 

Justin noticed Martin's eyes wander a little to the left, looking behind him. "But anyway," Martin said, way too exaggerated to be natural, "I think the lighting in here is fantastic for your skin tone." 

He had just finished the sentence when Lance sat down in the chair next to Justin. 

"I have to go get something from the car," Martin said quickly. Justin didn't have time to protest before Martin was strutting across the warehouse with that Martin flourish and that Martin swagger. 

Justin sighed deeply, staring at his newly-manicured hands, wishing his nails were longer so he could pick at them. 

"I'm sorry," Lance said quietly. 

"No, I'm sorry." 

"No, really. I'm sorry. I'm the one being weird. You're not doing anything wrong." 

"Shut up, Lance. I'm sorry." 

"You have no reason to be. I'm the one who should be sorry." 

Justin took a deep breath. He sensed Lance doing the same thing. " _I'm_ sorry," Justin said. "Don't make me come over there." 

Lance actually laughed, and not in an irritating way. Next thing Justin knew, he was laughing too. It seemed like it had been so long since he and Lance had actually laughed about the same thing. In the faint yellow light of the warehouse, Lance's hair looked to be the exact same tone as his skin color, like all of his features were washed out by one big mass of blond. 

"Why don't you let your roots grow in a little?" Justin asked suddenly. 

Lance picked at the front of his hair. "You don't like it the way it is?" 

"No, it looks fine. It just...." He paused. He wasn't sure why he said it. He definitely knew he couldn't explain it now. "...I'm just trying to make conversation." 

Lance nodded slowly, looking down at his hands like he wished he had nails to pick, too. "How about those Yankees?" 

More laughter! Another joke! They were on a roll now. Laughing with Lance made Justin feel a little bad for wanting to steal his boyfriend, and suddenly he just wanted to stop the conversation. He wanted to get out of the chair and get the shoot over with and go on about his day with Lance nowhere in sight. 

The laughter faded and Justin wiggled his feet absently, just wishing he could get up and get the fuck out of there. He couldn't tell if the silence was uncomfortable or if it was supposed to be one of those friendly silences where neither person felt like they had to talk. He got similar vibes from Lance, sensed him doing the same thing. 

"I'm in love with him," Lance said. 

The words shattered Justin's train of thought so quickly they might as well have been the sound of breaking glass. He looked back at his fingers again, his heart thumping so hard he imagined Lance could hear it. There was a slight rushing sound in his ears, a low hum in his brain, and he opened up his freshly-glossed lips before he even knew what he was doing. 

"So am I." 

Justin's eyes widened in spite of himself, the look on his face probably resembling Jim Carrey's in "Liar, Liar" when he couldn't stop telling the truth no matter how hard he tried. 

Jesus, Justin thought. He's going to hit me. He's going to leap out of that chair and grab the hot curling iron and beat me with it. He had no idea what had possessed him to say that. The longer it took Lance to reply, the longer Justin had to think, and the longer he thought, the less he could believe it. He never thought three words that weren't "I love you" could make the Earth spin out of orbit so quickly, but everything around him seemed different now. The air was clammier, the baby-powder stench of new makeup thick in his nostrils, his skull pulsing to the beat of his heart until it sounded like the bass line of a horror movie soundtrack. 

He looked over at Lance, knowing his eyes were wild. Lance sat perfectly still, picking at what little fingernails he had, his expression still calm. Finally he spoke. 

"I know." 

Justin tried to slow his breathing, tried to stop the slight tremor in his hands. It *was* a horror movie soundtrack now - screaming violins, haunting synthesizers, the far-off voice of a woman that sounded like a dark angel's as it climbed octaves. 

"I'm sorry," Justin said weakly, meaning it more now than all the other times combined. 

Justin watched Lance's profile as Lance nodded slowly. "What do you need to get over it?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"One night." Lance's voice sounded low and sure - so sure that it took Justin a second to clue in. "One night is all you get, and then he's mine and that's the end of it. Okay?" 

Justin started to reply when he heard Martin's sing-song voice behind him. "One more thing and you're done, Justin." 

Martin didn't seem to notice that Justin and Lance were absolutely quiet, neither even clearing his throat, both still reeling from the conversation they'd just had. Justin closed his eyes as Martin gave him one last sweep with the makeup brush. 

Justin turned sideways in the chair, studying Lance's profile carefully. "Okay." 

Crossing the warehouse to where the rest of the group stood, Justin could barely keep this thoughts straight. If JC was Justin's boyfriend, would Justin let JC have one night with a guy who was in love with him? No. He wouldn't. So why was Lance doing it? Was it because Lance knew that if he didn't concede somehow, Justin could take him head on and snatch JC away from him? Was it because this kind of tension was the sort that broke up bands? Was it because he cared about Justin and didn't want to see either of them get hurt? There were so many questions that he couldn't just come out and ask. He wondered if it might even be a boobie trap - he'd get JC alone in a room and Lance would come in and they'd both stand and laugh at Justin for being so pathetic. 

JC smiled broadly when Justin stopped next to him, and it crossed Justin's mind that JC might be in on it. Had JC talked Lance into it? Did JC know that he and Lance were negotiating over him like he was Microsoft stock? 

So many questions and no one to ask. He thought about running back over and asking Martin, since Martin was the only outside party who knew the whole story. Instead he posed patiently for the pictures, his arms around his band mates, his photo shoot smile turned on full blast the way it always was, even when it killed him. 


	5. Chapter 5

Justin sat cross-legged on the bed facing JC, the world locked outside and just him and his best friend and a bottle of whisky in JC's hotel room. 

It took a couple of hours of stupid conversation about stuff that didn't matter - movies, music, Britney's many outfits, stupid Mickey Mouse Club people - for Justin's tongue to feel heavy and a little buzz to hum through his body. Finally reality slipped a notch, everything getting a new sugarcoated haze to it. He touched JC's leg eight times in a row and JC barely noticed it. 

"She was such a bitch," JC said. "I can't believe she's famous now." He laughed and rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Do you remember that stupid hat she used to wear? That red cowboy hat? She wore that everywhere." 

Justin watched JC's lips, pale and full and moving vividly to form each new word. 

"Remember that music she listened to? A-Ha. She loved A-Ha." JC laughed, revealing a row of white teeth, moving that little pink tongue of his. Justin wanted to pull that tongue into his own mouth and suck on it. He knew it now with more clarity than he'd ever known anything. He wanted to pull down the neck of JC's perfectly tucked shirt and trace JC's collarbone with his tongue. He couldn't even think of it in terms of gay or straight, black or white, right or wrong. He was just completely and utterly in lust with his best friend, the best friend he wanted to know in every way he could. In a lot more ways than he did now. 

JC finally stopped talking and met Justin's gaze. "Are you even listening to me?" 

"I want you." 

He wasn't entirely sure why he said said it, but there it was, out in the open. 

JC's smile faded. His glossy eyes wavered. "Justin, no you don't." 

"I know you're with Lance and everything," Justin said. "I just want you once. That's it. Once. Then I'll let you guys...do whatever it is you do. Play your bubble game or whatever. I just want to spend one night kissing you and touching you and making you feel good." 

Where was all of this coming from? Justin hadn't used phrases like "making you feel good" since he was 16 and trying to sweet talk his girlfriends. But somehow it fit better than any other words he could possibly say. 

JC leaned in closer so their noses were a couple of inches apart, his unwavering eyes focused on Justin's. Justin wanted him to just scream out the answer and save him the suspense. But he knew by now that he couldn't rush things. 

"It'll just be between us," Justin said. "No one has to know about it." 

JC leaned even closer and Justin closed his eyes automatically, sighing when he felt JC's moist lips touch his. Their mouths opened against each other, tongues touching timidly and then with a bit more force. Justin put his hand on JC's neck, deepening the kiss until he could pull JC's tongue into his mouth. 

The only difference between this and Justin's previous kisses was that he could feel the tiny scrape of stubble. JC hadn't shaved that day. That was the sort of detail only an intimate friend would know, the sort of thing you could only find out from touching. The heat from JC's mouth was wet and immediate, and Justin felt like he might just melt on the bed and soak into the sheets. JC moved in closer, pushing Justin back until they were lying side by side on the bed with their feet on the pillows. 

Justin ran his hand under JC's shirt and up the side of his body, feeling the skin pulled tight and the muscles lean. There was absolutely no extra meat on the guy, just skin and bone and heat. 

JC broke the kiss and mumbled into Justin's mouth. "You've never done this with a guy, have you?" 

"No," Justin said, keeping his voice small, knowing the sweet and virginal act would work in his favor. 

"What do you want to do?" 

Justin felt a spark of irritation come from somewhere in his body. Did they have to plan it out? Couldn't they just go with it? If the mood wasn't so fragile he would have rolled his eyes. 

"Let's just see what happens." 

They kissed again, hands sliding under clothes, fingers undoing buttons, and Justin knew there was no turning back. He'd already kissed Lance's boyfriend. He'd already fed him whisky to get him in bed. It was funny, but lying there with his hands exploring JC's body, his fingers stopping to lightly pinch JC's nipples, he felt more than ever that JC was Lance's boyfriend. By the time JC's fingers had unzipped Justin's jeans and his hand had pushed in to stroke Justin's cock, Justin knew with certainty that he wanted JC with the same excitement that he used to want a Christmas present that hadn't been unwrapped yet. Once it was unwrapped, it wasn't as different or as special as you thought it would be, and there was nothing new left to uncover. Did he want to unwrap it and then never be able to play with it? Did he want to unwrap it at all? Why was it so hard to just figure out what he wanted? 

But it was too late for any of that. JC was already making a sloppy wet trail down Justin's stomach with his tongue, starting somewhere below his breast bone and descending quickly. Justin had hoped the whole thing would go a little slower. More than anything, Justin wanted JC to wrap his lips around one of his nipples and suck it until it was hard. But JC had started too low, and he was already at the fly of Justin's jeans, clumsy fingers undoing the top button and unzipping the zipper. 

And then JC reached Justin's cock, all tight lips and wet, warm mouth. Justin threw his head back and a thousand images and thoughts rushed into his brain - Britney's album cover, JC with his cut hand, Lance sitting in the chair in the warehouse waiting for his makeup. His mom, his dad, his cousin from Wisconsin, Chris after he got his hair cut, Martin with his open bathrobe and his bottle of vodka. Justin had never sucked anyone's cock, but he wondered if it was like a trumpet. The tighter the embouchure, the higher the sound you produced. 

And then, without warning, he started to laugh. It started as a little giggle, but the more he recalled his own thoughts, the more it turned into a full-blown "ha ha" laugh that took over his stomach and his chest and finally his entire body. 

JC stopped. "What's so funny?" 

"Nothing." Justin looked down and saw JC's perplexed look, but it didn't help. It was like three month's worth of confusion and frustration was coming out in this one big belly laugh. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, figuring it was over, but it came back in full force and he only laughed harder. 

JC stared. "Are you insane?" 

"No," Justin sighed, wiping his eyes with the tail of his T-shirt. "I just think...I think I'm bisexual." 

"Well, duh." The tone of JC's voice showed that he thought he was adding to the joke, but that part wasn't funny. 

"Do you...do you want me to keep doing this?" 

Justin considered it, and then answered, honestly, "Not at the moment." 

JC coiled up so his entire body fit on one of the pillows. Justin sat up and trailed his hand down JC's arm, trying to make it better, trying to get him to understand. "It's not you," he said. "It's just the alcohol. No...it's not even the alcohol. I don't know what it is. It's not that you're not a turn on, because believe me, you are. This is all just a little weird for me." 

JC gave him a forced smile. 

"Can we just wait a little while?" Justin said. "Like, lay down together and let me get used to touching you first?" 

Finally, it seemed like Justin had gotten through. JC smiled a little more realistically and uncoiled, lying down so his head was on the pillow, raising an arm so Justin could slide under. 

Justin pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, sliding over and cuddling under JC's arm. His back was to JC but he could feel JC's breathing get slower and steadier behind him, relaxing him, lulling his body away from the restlessness and towards a feeling that was all peace and warmth and good vibes. 

The next sound he heard was a door. He opened his eyes and found the room in complete darkness, JC sleeping soundly behind him. Justin hadn't meant to fall asleep. Panic came from nowhere and strummed through his body. Light sliced through the room and he saw Lance's silhouette, stepping in quietly and shutting the door. He probably hadn't even noticed Justin yet. 

He listened to Lance walk across the room. Lance stopped when he reached the bed, his face illuminated by the smear of blue light that seeped through the curtains. Justin watched Lance's gaze wander down to meet his. They stared at each other for a minute, Lance fully clothed and upright, Justin lying half naked in the arms of Lance's boyfriend. Justin could barely breathe. 

Justin slid out from under JC's arm and sat up slowly, realizing JC was still dressed. Justin was grateful for it. He ran his hand through his hair self-consciously, looking down at his body in the blue light, wanting to say something but at the same time wanting Lance to make the first move. 

"We didn't do anything," Justin whispered. "We started to but it kind of didn't happen." 

Lance sat on the bed, his weight causing the mattress to shift, his eyes still gleaming and examining Justin. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly through Justin's hair and Justin instinctively closed his eyes. 

"It's okay," Lance whispered back. 

"You're, like, a brother to me," Justin said. "You both are. I shouldn't have let all this happen." 

"It's okay," Lance repeated, and then Lance leaned closer, close enough that Justin could smell his cologne and the warm, new smell of his shirt. Then Lance's lips trailed across Justin's collar bone, moving inward, tracing up to brush his neck. 

Whoah. 

"What are you doing?" Justin asked. 

Lance pulled away, giving him a little smirk that was pure Lance. "Nothing. I just think you're curious." 

"I am," Justin said, and the sentence came out in one big exhale. 

"What do you want to do?" Lance asked, and this time it sounded like a completely logical question. 

"Everything," Justin breathed. 

"Okay." Then with all the stealth of James Bond, Lance pushed Justin on his back, climbing between his legs and pulling Justin's tongue into his mouth in an urgent but completely silent kiss. 

Whoah again. 

There was the scrape of material and the moist sound of mouths as Justin pushed his hands under Lance's shirt, grabbing urgently at his back, rocking his hips forward so their hard ons pressed together through their clothes. Lance broke the kiss suddenly and moved down until he wrapped his lips, hot and wet, around Justin's left nipple. 

Justin moaned before he even realized what he was doing. He heard the body next to him squirm. A tiny questioning noise came from JC. Lance must have heard it too, because he stopped and looked over at the sleepy body in bed next to them. 

"It's okay, Jace," Lance said, his voice inching closer to normal volume now. "He's curious." 

At first Justin thought JC would freak. When that didn't happen, he thought JC would get up and leave. When that didn't happen, he just lay there frozen, waiting, feeling a strange mixture of awkwardness and terror and arousal that must have been a whole new feeling created just for this moment. "He's curious" didn't seem like a very thorough explanation to give your boyfriend when he discovered you sucking some guy's nipple, especially when your boyfriend was sleeping about an inch away. But JC lay perfectly still, keeping eye contact with Lance, like he was waiting for something to happen too. 

Justin let Lance kiss him again, except this time the kiss was twice as hungry and twice as forceful. He bucked his hips against Lance involuntarily, his cock painfully hard, his body aching to come from the delicious new friction. 

Then he felt a set of lips trail across his shoulder. JC's lips. And it hit him like a hailstorm. His first time wasn't going to be with a single guy; a single friend who returned his affections and was willing to show him the ropes. It was going to be with two friends who returned his affections and were willing to show him the ropes. 

Again, whoah. In fact, "whoah" and "oh my God" and "fuck" bounced through his mind like rubber balls, along with a "kinky" thrown in for good measure. It was definitely time to reassess the situation. 

Would this cause more problems? Would this confuse who was supposed to make him insanely jealous and who he was supposed to be coveting? He had no idea what he was even supposed to do in a threesome. Did he even want to do this? 

Then Lance's lips wrapped around his nipple again, sucking it hard. JC's fingers trailed across Justin's jaw and turned his head until their mouths met in a fervent kiss. And then the only question was whether or not he could stop it, even if he wanted to. 

Lance moved farther down Justin's body, giving his stomach wet, open-mouthed kisses. Justin's arms were freed enough to reach over and pull JC's shirt off and throw it across the room. That started a chain reaction and then they were all undressing each other, fingers clumsily undoing flies and random hands pulling pants over hips, foreheads occasionally knocking together in the confusion of limbs and hands. 

And then they were naked, three best friends, an orchestra of long, lean limbs to grab and slender necks to kiss and pink lips to suck and bite and moan against. Lance went back to his original spot halfway down Justin's stomach, positioning himself between Justin's legs. The farther down he went, the harder Justin sucked on JC's tongue, kissing him with increasing urgency when he felt Lance hovering somewhere around Justin's cock, not touching it yet, as if he was trying to keep Justin in suspense. Then, instead of taking it into his mouth, Lance used the tip of his tongue to lick slow circles around the head. Justin moaned into JC's mouth, his fingertips digging hard into the back of JC's neck. If he hadn't been kissing JC so passionately he would have uttered some unintelligible word. 

All at once, Lance stopped licking the head and began using his whole mouth, moving down the shaft effortlessly, starting a slow and wet and delicious rhythm. Justin felt JC's fingers tweak one of his nipples and he thought he might simply explode. He didn't think anything in the world that couldn't be freebased was supposed to feel this good. And he had never suspected Lance to be so fucking good at giving head. 

Justin hadn't realized how hard he was kissing JC until JC had to plant a hand on Justin's chest to tear himself away. He kissed his way down JC's neck and across his breastbone before he realized that JC was moving his body across Justin's mouth, giving him access to the places JC wanted to be kissed. Justin complied enthusiastically, gnawing gently at JC's nipples, sucking his way down JC's stomach, following the nearly invisible line of hair. JC had slid onto his knees, moving his body up farther and farther until Justin felt him looming over of him. Justin reached JC's belly button, kissing a little circle around it. JC's cock brushed against Justin's chin and Justin knew he was about to get a crash course in giving head. 

He opened his mouth wide, letting JC's cock slide between his lips slowly, in half inches so he could get used to the feeling. It didn't taste bad or good, just completely foreign. The whole thing seemed like an out of body experience. He tried to do the things he'd always wanted done to him, but in the end he just sucked it, trying to keep his teeth out of the way, trying to establish a rhythm. JC moaned back in encouragement, thrusting his hips gently. "Good," JC whispered from somewhere above him. "You're doing good." 

Justin had been so wrapped up in what he was doing that he almost forgot about Lance, sprawled out between Justin's legs, still sucking and licking him like he was trying to get to the creamy centre. Justin's pulse quickened, his muscles trembling a little. "I'm gonna come," he breathed. 

Lance stopped suddenly, leaving Justin's body dangling on the edge. JC pulled away too, sliding down into a lying position and whispering in Justin's ear. "Do you want to fuck Lance?" 

"What?" Justin asked, although he didn't really need it repeated. He looked down and saw Lance watching him, his eyes patient with just a tinge of expectation. It was amazing how calm Lance had remained through the whole thing. 

"Does Lance want me to?" Justin asked, like Lance wasn't even in the room. 

JC smiled at Lance. "I think so. Lance likes that." 

"Okay." 

Lance got on his hands and knees and crawled up to the head of the bed, so methodically that Justin could imagine Lance doing it every night for JC. Lance lay on his back, stretching out, waiting. Justin climbed over JC timidly, feeling JC's hand trail across his back, and realized that Lance wasn't even hard yet. He didn't need experience with gay sex to know that Lance should at least get an erection out of the deal. 

So instead of climbing on top of him, Justin slid between Lance's legs, licking the head of his cock the way Lance had done to him a few minutes earlier. At first he had to use his hand to keep it in place, but after a few sucks it was standing up on its own. He felt JC's shoulder against his and realized that JC was kind of pushing him out of the way, forcing Justin to squirm under Lance's leg and reposition himself so he was doing everything sideways. JC had a tube of something and Justin realized JC was getting Lance ready, yet another thing Justin could imagine them doing every night. He knew when JC slid his fingers into Lance's ass because Lance's hips bucked and he groaned so deeply that it sounded like a rumble. Lance grabbed the back of Justin's head, forcing his cock so deep into Justin's mouth that Justin had to fight his gag reflexes. 

They stayed in position for a moment, working Lance into what seemed like a near frenzy, before JC pulled Justin down to the end of the bed and wrapped his slick, moist hand around Justin's cock, stroking it a few times and then backing away. 

Show time. 

Lance seemed to know exactly what to do. He rested his ankles on Justin's shoulders, bending easily as Justin moved into place. It was pretty much the same as it would be with a girl except it took Justin longer to find where his cock was supposed to go. It was so tight that Justin fought the urge to grit his teeth when he slid inside. Much tighter and more intense than with a girl, like the initial entry might be enough to bring him off. 

But once he was inside, he knew exactly what he was doing. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was fuck. He started pumping slowly, knowing he wasn't going to last more than a couple of minutes. Lance moved in time with him, his hands sliding down Justin's arms and his fingertips digging in. Lance's head fell back against the pillow, his eyes closed, his mouth opening and his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. JC's hand was trailing across Lance's chest, his teeth nipping at Lance's earlobe. He whispered something Justin couldn't hear into Lance's ear and Lance moaned something unintelligible back. 

Lance's head jerked sideways and he and JC kissed sloppily, tongues outstretched and rubbing together, teeth scraping against bottom lips, like a porn movie kiss. Just the sight of it made Justin cry out and without farther warning he was coming so hard that his entire body shook from the force of it. 

Lance stopped moving underneath him, waiting patiently for Justin to finish, still smiling from JC's lips against his neck. Justin smiled back weakly. "How was it?" 

"Good," Lance murmered. "A little timid, maybe." 

Justin was breathing heavily, his whole body damp with sweat. "A little timid?" 

"Yeah. Maybe JC will demonstrate the fine art of an aggressive fuck." 

Justin moved out of the way quickly, lying down in JC's old spot, and watched JC's lean body take its rightful place on top of Lance. And he knew he was going to enjoy the show. 

*** 

 

Justin opened one eye and looked at the alarm clock. 3:10 a.m. The room was dark, the two bodies in bed next to him breathing steadily. Justin sat up slowly and saw JC and Lance sleeping soundly, Lance's head resting on JC's chest, JC's hand resting on Lance's shoulder. They looked perfect together, and Justin realized the thought of that didn't even bother him. 

He found his clothes fairly easily in the dark, pulling them on and leaving as quietly as he could. He stepped into the hallway to find Chris leaning against the wall. Chris looked different than usual - his eyes darker, his features more defined, his body bulkier in just the right places. 

"What are you still doing up?" Justin asked. 

"Just waiting for Joey. He's saying goodbye to someone downstairs." Justin felt Chris's eyes glide down his body, so quickly he doubted Chris even knew he was doing it. "What were you guys doing in there?" 

Justin smiled slowly and bit his lip. "Nothing." 

"Oh." Justin thought he saw Chris actually gulp. 

Justin leaned back against the opposite wall for a moment, holding Chris's gaze, making up his mind that he was going to stand there and watch Chris for as long as Chris watched him. The eye contact was broken when they heard someone stumble off the elevator. 

It was Martin, so drunk that he moved like there were no bones in his body. Andy the security guy had his arm around Martin, leading him in the right direction, listening stone-faced to Martin's babbling. 

"Oh!" Martin said when he saw them, looking from one to the other. "You boys in a bubble. There's a whole world out there." 

"Huh?" Justin said. 

"What I mean is...." Martin waved his hand in a circular motion like he was trying to get his thoughts in order, his words coming out in one long slur. "What I mean is there's a whole world out there of people to fuck. You don't have to keep it in the family." 

He laughed loudly at his own words as Andy led him between Justin and Chris and down the hallway to his room. Justin watched Andy open Martin's door and push him inside. 

He looked back at Chris. "Goodnight, Chris." 

"Goodnight, Justin." 

Heading back to his room, Justin realized that he kind of liked this hotel. 


End file.
